


Track Record

by LitMech (PatrioticFrisbee)



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: F/M, Grocery Store Clerk?, Older Work, Unbeta'd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-01
Updated: 2011-12-01
Packaged: 2017-10-26 17:52:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/286205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PatrioticFrisbee/pseuds/LitMech
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur doesn't much like working for a grocery store. Though occasionally he gets some nice perks.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	Track Record

Truly it had been a long time since he'd been attracted to a customer. Months, maybe a year? He honestly couldn't tell you the last time he'd found someone in his shop and thought 'gee, aren't they pretty'.

It was good to know he could keep his track record.

Time magazine wasn't as enjoyable as it used to be, but it still had some challenging cross word puzzles. That's what was interrupted by his newest customer, a sandy blond he couldn't say he'd recognized. Which, for the size of a town Kendlewood was, was a feat in and of itself. The fact the guy opened his mouth and out tumbled James Bond probably didn't help either, but foreigners in Kendlewood were as rare as blue parsley and he'd take what he could get.

"We have grey paint, and three resident Earls. Nothing combined, nor in tea form. Sorry Governor."

"Aren't you a gem," He flashed a smile and yes, the English had awful teeth. Mom would be aflutter. "Anything in tea form will work I suppose."

"That way," with a grunt Arthur heaved off his counter and stretched across to point toward aisle nine. "Last I saw. I don't drink tea so its a shot in the dark."

"Eames."

"Don't think we have that either," He sat back on his uncomfortable stool, pen in hand. A large, tan hand inhibited his view of previously mentioned pastime, and he puffed when he looked up. The guy had nice eyes, and cheek bones. But Arthur didn't find people in his shop attractive, he had a record.

"My name. It's Eames."

"Good for you? Aren't you just passing through?"

"My friend Ian and I are part of a study abroad," Eames said with a grin, dropping his pretty eyes and spinning Arthur's Time to him, and plucked away the pen. He filled in two lines, and Arthur went to protest; the phone number written to the aide silenced him. "Kansas isn't particularly exciting, so far. If you think of something that could entertain a Limey," their eyes met and Arthur could almost see the laughter. "Send me a note." When the Englishman dropped his eyes to Arthur's chest area, he was perplexed, then they jumped back up. "Jimmy. I'll be waiting."

The Dick didn't even buy anything.

Arthur made a note to find his own name tag soon, though.


End file.
